What Has Changed?
by Mad18Max
Summary: [Moonlight] Decades ago when Mick was still draining humans there was an accident.  Mick sired a vampire.  After that, they fell in love, then Mick left her.  Now she's back.
1. A Blast from the Past

(Mick POV, present tense)

As the door to the ballroom opened a wave of hot humid air broke on our skin. I had to resist the urge to shiver. I stood there for a moment until Josef tapped me on the back with his elbow. I cleared my throat and walked into the room. Before we'd taken three steps a couple approached us and introduced themselves, or at least to Josef. It was perfectly alright by me, I didn't even want to be there.

Two or three months ago I was approached by someone on the donation committee for the new hospital. There was a leak somewhere in the committee; he hired me to find it. When I found the leak I helped him take care of the problem. When I dismissed payment and called it pro-bono that's when I got one of these invitations. I of course had no intentions to go; but Josef, who had already donated rather generous sums, asked me to go with him. So that is why I was present at a Charity Fundraiser for which I had no interest.

Josef began greeting aristocrats while I lingered at the edge of their awareness. The room was decorated with such taste I wondered how even a hospital could need more donations. All the women wore gowns and tiaras and the men, Josef and I included, however unwillingly, wore tuxedos.

It took all of about twenty minutes before I was board stiff. The sticky air seemed to cling and weigh me down. Even the ceiling seemed to press down on me. I excused myself as politely as I could and went out onto the terrace. The crowd was large and as I moved I seemed only to be churned through them. As I walked I smelled something, faintly, and only once. A smell so brief it was gone by the time I realized it. It pulled at my past and reminded me of both dark and beautiful times. My head swung around as I searched for the source of the beautiful scent. When I found nothing I dismissed it as my own fancy and continued making my way toward the door.

As soon as I saw the stars I relaxed. The cool evening air played across my skin and I heard Beth call my name, "Mick I didn't know you were coming!"

"The feeling's mutual." Beth and I talked and eventually Josef came around too.

However the smell came back, stronger this time. As a breeze floated past it seemed to flood my senses. My heart skipped a beat at its potency, she was close. Her scent was alluring, it was everywhere. I knew I wanted it to be hers so badly that I could easily have fooled myself into believing it was. But as I heard her laugh, I knew it was her.

Memories assailed me. Things I wasn't yet, or would ever be, ready to face; but it had to be her. Josef put a hand on my shoulder, "you alright Mick?"

I brushed it off and my eyes scanned the crowd. That smell, nothing compared to it. I didn't believe it was hers, even though I think I wanted to; but it was the exact same. Every element I'd worked so hard to push away, was there, the same and unchanged even though I hadn't been able to recall it for years.

Then I heard her laugh, floating in on a breeze. Out of my peripheral vision I knew Josef heard it too. His head swiveled to scan the crowd, I was already doing it. I heard Josef whisper when I spotted her. His voice was unbelieving, "oh my God." In the exact moment I picked her out of the crowd she turned from the person she was speaking to and caught my glance.

Oh my God indeed. As she caught my stare she didn't turn away she just stared right back at me. Her expression turned from laughter to blank. It was only a moment's blank; but it held everything I didn't want to see there: fear, anger, hurt, betrayal. She caught my glance and held it as steadily as I did hers.

She hadn't changed at all in the thirty years since I'd seen her last. Her hair was brunette with blonde highlights, never quite one or the other. It was pinned back from her face; but I knew it could run down to the small of her back. Shiny and silky though thick, always thick, I knew the feel of it through my fingers. I'd forgotten over the years but it all came flooding back.

Her smile, her beautiful ever-present smile, I knew the way it made me smile back. She thought everything was funny, even if it wasn't. And those beautiful bright green eyes, they weren't hazel, they weren't blue green. They were the greenest shade of green I knew, dark and penetrating. Her eyes contrasted fantastically with her flawless tan skin, just the most gentle of coppers.

She wore a stunning sparkling dark blue dress, a slinky gown, the slit up the right leg came up to her mid thigh. It fit the contours of her body perfectly, clinging and giving in all the right places. The dress brought out the light in her eyes. With it she wore diamond jewelry, nothing over the top, a long pendant necklace, and hoop earrings. On top of it all she wore black satin stiletto heels, maybe the longest I'd ever seen.

But I didn't see any of it; I caught it all out of the corner of my eye. As soon as I saw her face I couldn't tear my gaze away; because I didn't want to. She had that effect on me, and everyone else she met.

At first there was reflected in her beautiful eyes the fear that both broke my heart and made me want to protect her forever. Then I saw her swallow and smile. She broke our stare and turned. She seemed to fly. I feared she would expose us both from the way she glided across the veranda, and up the stairs. She drew other stares as well. No one could resist her beauty. Everything about her was beauty to me, it wasn't as much as a coincidence as you'd think. However her every single trait sung beauty to me in ways I didn't know the word could mean. A sunset, the stars, flowers, they could all be described as beautiful; but none or all of them deserved to pale in comparison next to the woman I didn't have the imagination to dream of.

She came up the stairs quickly, so gracefully. She came to Josef first. "Josef!!" she cried with her happy voice. He could barely throw open his arms fast enough. To me she was beauty to others she was still the most beautiful girl in existence. Even Josef loved her.

"Lynn!" he cried as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh Josef it's been far too long!" she said smiling as naturally as it came.

"I see you two know each other," Beth said with a surprised grin.

"Beth darling," Lynn responded with a smile. She disentangled herself smoothly from a putout Josef and put a cheek to Beth's with a kiss.

"It's good to see you Sarah," Beth said with an unconscious smile. Lynn had that effect on people, she made you smile. Her smiles were like the essence of happiness that dispelled gloom with an afterthought.

"I told you, call me Lynn," she said with a smile.

Finally her gaze arrived to me. Her full-blown smile turned to a sweet smirk. I had been watching her so intently I hadn't done as much as close my mouth. I tried to swallow then realized how dry my throat was.

"Well Lynn this is my good friend…"

"Mick Saint John," she finished. I repressed a shudder. It had been thirty years since she had said my name last.

Beth rolled her eyes, "I swear Lynn you know everyone."

"Can't help it," she spoke to Beth; but she looked at me. "I been around the block a few times."

For a moment no one spoke. I wondered what to say. What could I say? What was the truth?

"I missed you Mick," she said with a smile.

As always Lynn never disappointed. "Glad I wasn't alone," was all I could manage to get out. Lynn moved quickly and placed a quick kiss on my cheek. I know it sounds slightly scandalous; but if anything I swear it told me things were just business.

As her cheek brushed against mine so gently I reminded myself to stop hyperventilating. My skin felt warm, like the ray of the sun, before it started to kill me. I really had to push to stop breathing through my mouth. Her skin was perhaps the softest thing I'd ever felt, even as I'd pushed my lips to her neck no! I pushed away the memory, not now.

She was still smiling. "I met Mick and Josef a long," she stressed the word, "time ago."

Beth smiled, "that's how I feel about them too."

Josef, who had placed himself firmly at Lynn's side, looked over at Beth as though she were missing something. "A really," he drew out the word, "long time ago."

Beth looked confused for a second before she her lips formed an 'oh'. She looked surprised. "You too?" she asked Lynn.

Lynn gave Josef and I disbelieving glances, "wow you guys suck at keeping secrets."

While Beth's shock was impressive; but I think my own made hers pale in comparison.

"Well I should probably get back. It's been lovely to see you all. Beth let's grab lunch sometime. Joe I'll visit soon I promise." Her grace was unmatched; but my heart was wrenched from its contented place in shock. I was happy she'd been here. I was happy it had been an event out of my control that meant I hadn't broken. However it still left me in that same place. I didn't want her to leave.

She didn't even glance at me as she turned away and left the three of us staring after her. I swallowed and wrenched my head away from where she'd glided through the crowd. My heart was in my throat, I could feel it going a hundred miles a minute. Her scent hadn't left with her it still swirled through the air, still impressed where she'd brushed against my jacket. It was intoxicating to me, I could feel my head start to spin, I had to get out of there.

"I should get going," I managed to mutter before I started almost running through the crowd. I had to get out of there.

I could still hear Beth as I went, "was it something I said?"

Even Josef's reply before he started following after me. "It wasn't you, they have a history." Even across the room I wanted to scoff, that was putting it mildly.

(Lynn POV present tense)

My heart was racing. As I walked away I had to slow myself so I wasn't running. I needed to get out of there. However before I could make it to the door I almost lost it. I ducked quickly into the ladies room before I had a full scale panic attack. I went straight to the sink and splashed some cold water on my face. I couldn't seem to feel it, it was like my mind and body were detached.

I splashed more water and managed to spill some onto my satin heels, albeit I couldn't gather up the drama to care. I splashed more water onto the back of my neck and then dried my face. A woman walked past me looking absolutely scandalous. She probably thought I was drunk. It scared me how close to the truth she was. Mick was like my own personal drug. Everything about him was designed to seduce me.

It was just like he said to me that night, "don't feel bad. Everything about me was made to hunt you."

As I raised my head my senses went haywire and I knew I was crazy or he was standing right behind me. I reached into my clutch and grabbed my lip gloss. Sure enough as I looked into the mirror he was standing there right over my shoulder. I took as inconspicuous a deep breath as possible. Sure I was blown away…he didn't deserve to know that.

"Evening," I said as calmly as I could all the while raising my eyebrows.

"That's all you have to say?" he asked, equally as calm. It infuriated me to no end he seemed to in control. A young woman stepped out of a stall and took in the scene with raised eyebrows, swearing in French. I tried my best to seem in control; but as though I was greatly enjoying the attention. "Excusez-nous s'il vous plaît un moment?" I asked.

She seemed slightly validated when I spoke to her in her own language, though more than a little surprised, "um… oui."

"Merci," I returned an innocent smile. She left the room with pursed lips and as I returned my gaze to Mick it irritated me he hadn't bothered to turn his away.

"French?" he asked. "Latin, German, Spanish, Arabic, and Greek weren't enough?" he asked with a sweet smile. That smile, I felt my knees grow weak. I wasn't scared when he got angry, I didn't flinch when he was upset, but when he flashed that smile my way I lost all control.

"Mick, if you're going to corner me in a ladies room you better have something more interesting to say than 'what's up'," I hoped I didn't sound as cruel as I meant it to be.

"Well it seems like there's a lot to be said," he grinned.

I tried not to smile. "Not from my point of view."

He sobered up, "what brings you to town?"

"I'm here for a few weeks helping with the charity balls." Mick smiled again.

"Maybe I don't know you as well as I thought," he was still smiling.

I reached for my purse, "damn straight."

Mick pretended to look surprised, "ooh, swearing. If I know you at all that means your feeling a bit touchy."

"You don't know me at all Mick," I tried to walk past him. As I went past his shoulder he flashed me a glance and leaned over slightly enough I would have to touch him to get past him. My irritation was real as I put on my 'what?' face.

He looked me straight in the eyes and didn't say a word for long moments. "Can we talk?" he asked.

My heart might have skipped a beat; but I was angry enough his smile couldn't break me. "We have talked Mick." He opened his mouth to speak; but I spoke faster. "Mick, nothing has changed."

(Mick POV present tense)

I was practically running blindly for the door. I made it through and half way down the hall before Josef came after me from the ballroom. He called out my name; but I couldn't really hear it. I made it down the hall across the lobby and into the parking lot before he caught up with me. Not that I made it hard, once I hit the parking lot I put my hands on the hood of a car, and put my head down trying to catch my breath.

"Mick!" Josef called running up to my side. "You okay?" he asked, clearly alarmed. My head was spinning from how fast I was breathing.

"What's she doing here?"

"Take it easy Mick, take it easy," Josef's concern was obvious.

But the whole night I couldn't get my head on straight. Everything I'd pushed away came rushing back. Everything I dimmed away was blazing through my mind. It was hard enough to say no to her the first time. How could I do it again? Then again, I was the one who said goodbye. What had changed?

(Beth POV present tense)

I was meeting Lynn for lunch the next day. After Mick's sudden disappearance and Josef's strange explanation my reporter senses were tingling, I was intrigued.

Lynn didn't eat; but she still sat there entirely composed as I ate. Finally after some girl talk I got down to business.

"So what was up with your disappearing act last night?" I asked.

She shrugged off my question, "nothing just people to see, things to do."

"Please. Josef told me you and Mick have a quote on quote history. Come on, dish. How do you know Mick?"

She looked at me for a moment as though summing me up. "How much do you know about vampires?" she asked me. The way she said the question made me feel like a child.

"Just the basics," I admitted.

"Do you know how siring works?" I nodded. "A sire's job is to teach his creation how to feed how to survive without getting caught, after he turns them of course." She nodded and bit her lip uneasily; she seemed unsure how to proceed. "What does this have to do with Mick?" I asked.

She gave a short laugh without any real humor, "Mick was my sire."

My heart skipped a beat. Not my Mick. The Mick who was a rogue from his own kind, refusing to feed from humans? My hero? It couldn't be. "Mick?" I stuttered.

Lynn nodded, "don't be so surprised. He had a life before he met you. Back when Mick was just any other vampire, feeding on humans to survive, I was a victim. He turned me; on accident admittedly. He showed me the ropes and over time I fell in love with him." She spoke matter-of-factly her voice free from all emotion. "Mick didn't return my sentiment."

My phone rang. I picked it up irritably, this was really possibly the worst time. It was work, I had to come in. "Hey I just got called. I have to go in to work."

Lynn smiled understandingly, "okay. I got the bill."

I looked at her disbelievingly, "you didn't even eat!"

She smiled. "That's okay I had fun talking to you anyway." I gathered up my stuff.

"Oh I forgot. You left your coat at the party. I grabbed it; but I left it at my house."

Lynn looked relieved, "great I'd thought I'd lost it. Can I come pick it up?"

"Sure."

"What's your address?" I pulled out a piece of paper and as I pressed the pen to the paper I got an idea. It may have qualified for stupid; but I did it anyway. I could sense the issues between her and Mick and I think I hoped they could work them out. The pen flashed across the page and I handed it to Lynn.

"I'll swing by soon," she promised.

"Great, I'll see you then," I smiled, trying not to look like I was lying. But I wouldn't see her soon because that was Mick's address in her hand.


	2. A History

(Mick POV past tense)

I wasn't terribly thirsty, or so I thought. I'd fed recently; but it didn't matter. I had just finished at an art gallery opening, fairly uninteresting; but at that time I never said no to Josef. I was still in my tux. I started to walk past the park and I smelled it, just a brief sniff of something amazing. I decided then and there I was thirsty. The blood in my body seemed to disappear. Suddenly I was ravenous. My eyes changed when I caught sight of the little drop of blood.

My head was whirling in the smell, it was so perfect. It smelled amazing. I gathered a couple of things from the little drop. She was running, the sweat and adrenaline proved that. I gathered as she was running she tripped. I glanced around, probably over that crack in the sidewalk. She grazed her hand and was running through the park blood dripping from her hand. Well this is going to be incredibly easy, or so I thought.

I followed her blood. It went deep through the little forest/park. No wonder she liked this as a running spot. It took less than a minute for me to find her. When I caught sight of her I gasped. She was beautiful, flawless; to change any part of her should be a crime. She wasn't sprinting; but she was close. As she ran through the dark park in the likeness of a forest I followed her, trying hard to stay out of her line of vision.

She seemed to know I was there. She'd keep stopping to look over her shoulder where I had been moments before. After about the third time I smelled the adrenaline rush in her bloodstream. I heard her breathing became more ragged as she ran faster and faster trying to lose the enemy she couldn't identify. She went down the path and eventually a building loomed up ahead, an old gymnasium. I watched her thunder up the steps and try to open the door. She cast a frightened look behind her and with perfect form kicked down the door. The wood of the frame snapped and she ran inside throwing the doors shut behind her. She slid a mop through the door handle. I smiled. It wouldn't do any good.

I ran to the back entrance and stood behind her, watching as she peered through the window next to the door, searching for her pursuer. After a moment she sighed and turned. She pushed her back to the wall and shut her eyes, sliding to the ground. She jerked back her hand as it came to rest on a piece of glass. Someone had broken a window high above her with a rock. The fresh wound let the scent swirl through the air unhindered.

She opened her eyes as she felt the pain and I heard her gasp as she saw me. She feigned courage, acting as though she wasn't afraid, she was rather convincing too. She stood. It took everything I had for me to restrain myself, the blood dripping from her hand was calling out to me.

"Have you nothing to say?" I asked after moments of silence.

"What? I could ask who you are; but we both know it doesn't matter."

"Excellent point." I couldn't stand it any longer I attacked. I ran at her. She looked terrified when I covered the distance between us in a second. She let out a small scream, looking away and pulling her hand up next to her chest. My face was at her neck as I felt the pain in my chest with a moment's confusion. I stepped back and looked at the piece of glass firmly embedded in my skin. Warm blood coupled around the wound, though only for a moment. I stepped back and pulled the glass out. Women were usually screaming and flailing; but she stood there, definitely scared; but with a sort of dignity.

As I pulled out the glass my blood arced towards her, she turned away; but I heard her almost wretch when my blood hit her face. I looked at where she'd stabbed me, it was totally healed over. She looked horrified, in that instant I grabbed her. She tried to jerk free; but her failure was to be expected. "Don't feel bad," I whispered into her ear. "Everything about me was made to hunt you," she struggled; but my teeth sank into her neck all the same.

Her blood tasted like nothing I'd ever tasted before. From what I could remember of food her blood put it to shame. I drained her completely and let her body slump to the ground. It was a shame really, she was very beautiful. Recently, women were one of the last things on my mind. I knew if I was still human this one would have been far too great a temptation. Even now I regretted my rashness, though only slightly.

As she'd struggled her hair had come free from the ponytail. I bent down and brushed it back from her face. She recoiled and I nearly jumped back. I stood and her eyes fluttered open. My shock must have registered on my face; but when she saw me she recoiled instantly, pushing herself weakly into a corner. My mind flailed for answers, how? I could hardly move from my shock. I was sure I'd drained her completely. Her hand came up to the back of her neck where I'd bit her and then frantically wiped disgustedly at my blood still on her face, then it hit me. Oh my God I'd turned her.

I stepped forward. "Stay away from me!" she yelled. I bent down to her to try and explain, to apologize. She jerked to push me away; I didn't hesitate, unafraid of her human strength; but I underestimated her. With her new strength I was pushed backwards. She looked in horror at what she had just done. She looked terrified. "Oh my god what did you do to me!" she accused. I was at a loss for words, how could I explain this to her?

I could see the hunger in her white eyes. I didn't know what to say. I stood and walked over near her, staying out of her reach, I sat on the ground and looked her in the eyes.

"What did you do to me?" she asked frantically.

I didn't know any easy way to say it so I just said it. "I've turned you into a vampire." She looked terrified but there wasn't the disbelief I was expecting.

"Why do I feel so strange?" she said almost begging.

"You're changing," I answered suddenly aware of how dry my throat was.

"I'm so hungry," she said after a minute.

"You need to feed," I responded. I moved toward her.

"Stay back!" she yelled. The fluorescent lighting seemed particularly eerie.

"You need to feed now or you'll just get hungry and then hurt someone."

She swallowed, "why should I believe you?"

I looked down. "There's no reason to," I admitted. I moved closer and she didn't make a move to stop me. I lifted her into my arms and carried her outside. At first she seemed completely uncomfortable with me holding her; but I knew she was too hungry to walk. As I carried her back to mine and Josef's house she started to give. She wrapped her arms around my neck and pushed her face into my shirt. It only solidified my guilt. In my opinion dead was better than the living dead.

I put her into a spare room and then went to find Josef. Josef was shocked and then sympathetic when I explained what happened. He arranged for her first meal, one of the humans he kept around, a woman with red hair. I took the girl into a spare room and she sat on the edge of a bed. Josef stayed in the corner watching.

I tried to stay composed even though the guilt was slowly devouring me. I spoke softly. I knew what she was feeling. "When we're done I'm going to bring a human in here. She's going to sit here with you and offer you her arm. Bite her once. Your fangs are going to let the blood drain out and all you have to do is swallow it." Her eyes were filling with tears.

"I don't want to," she sobbed curling into the fetal position.

"I know," I told her. For a moment I waited; but as she showed no signs of stopping. I put my hands on hers. She bent forward, still in tears.

"Mick," Josef said warningly. The sympathy in his voice was apparent; but if she didn't feed soon she'd just be unsociable.

I wrapped my arms around her and she cried into my shirt. "You need to feed," I reminded her softly. I stood and opened the door, the woman came in. She saw the girl on the bed and looked very compassionate.

"Is this her first time?" she asked me understandingly. I nodded.

She walked over to her. She put her arm around her shoulders and offered her her wrist. The girl, I realized now I didn't even know her name, looked up at me. "Will I kill her?" she asked me through tears.

I shook my head. "We'll have you stop before you hurt her."

She sobbed again her whole body shaking. I realized how hungry she must have been and I respected her restraint. The pure horror she felt was to her own credit. Josef stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder, looking her straight in the eyes. "You have to do this now or you'll end up hurting a lot more people. Just do it quick." I'd never heard him speak so compassionately.

She nodded and closed her eyes hard. When she opened them they were glazed over white and with her new speed she sunk her fangs into the woman's arm. The woman grimaced, newbies weren't always as careful as the experienced ones; but soon her expression cleared.

The girl fed, crying the whole time. The guilt was tearing me apart, how could I have done that to her? Josef walked over to me and had me leave the room, promising to stop her. When I got into the hallway her sobs were still clearly audible to me. I walked quickly through the entire house until I reached the outside; ignoring the strange looks the others gave me.

I couldn't deny what I'd done to myself. What I'd done to that poor girl. I walked away from the porch and just wandered through the neighborhood for a while. My guilt was overwhelming me. I think the only thing that kept me from suicide at that point was some insane notion that I was her sire and I had to wait until I knew her future was secure. I decided then and there that girl had everything I had to give her. It was my fault she was stuck like this, and I was going to protect her until she could take care of herself. If the guilt was still fresh after that, suicide could remain an option.

I wandered back to the house eventually. The halls were silent as I made my way to the extra bedroom. The girl was asleep sitting on the bed, her arms wrapped around Josef. Josef was running fingers through her hair gently. He looked up as I entered the room. I didn't know if I imagined it; but I think I saw some accusation in his eyes. He laid her gently back onto the bed. She remained as lifeless as a corpse as Josef covered her with a blanket.

He put a hand on my shoulder as he passed me. "Her name is Lynn," he whispered and left. I dragged a chair next to her bed and sat there all night. The temperature in her room was lowered so she could sleep comfortably. The cool was refreshing as I learned that guilt was served hot.

Her face was stained with makeup washed over her face by her tears. Her hair which had been tangled was now straight from Josef's persistent combing. She slept deeply; tired from the changes her body was going through and the sheer exhaustion. She slept the rest of the night and through the whole next day until the sun was going down. It shone through the window and colored the gold in her hair and the copper of her skin, little things I hadn't noticed in the dark of the running park.

Finally she stirred and began to wake. She muttered a name, "Tom?" She blinked persistently as she took in the room. She looked terrified; but strangely she didn't recoil away from me. When she saw the room she gasped, instantly horrified. I remembered the first morning, when you realized it hadn't been a dream.

She sprang from the bed and ran straight into a bathroom. I heard her trying unsuccessfully to bring up the contents of her stomach. I gave her about five minutes and then went in, she was crying again; and it broke my heart. Her head pressed against the cool tub, pulled into a little ball. I walked over and picked her up, her insubstantial weight making her feel all the more fragile to me. I carried her back to her bed; but she didn't let go of me when I set her down. I couldn't find the words to tell her what I'd done. She cried into my shirt, and I was trying to hold myself together. "I'm so sorry," I muttered. All night she cried; and all night I sat there with her repeating the same three words. Eventually she fell asleep again, still exhausted. I put her back in the bed; and this time I left.

Josef tried to convince me what I'd done was an accident; but I still felt empty. I didn't feed for days. I put all of my energy into helping her with the transition.

The next day I came into her room. She was sitting on her bed just staring into space. She didn't look up at me when I came in. I dragged the chair next to her bed and after what felt like an hour I spoke. "How are you doing?" She didn't say anything.

"I know asking you if you're okay would be stupid; but I just want to know you're remotely alright. How are you doing?" I asked again.

She blinked hard and then turned to look at me. "I don't know," she answered. I talked with her and explained everything as best as I could. She didn't speak except to ask the occasional question. Her eyes had a vacant, lost look.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Sarah Lynn Williams," she answered. After a few more minutes conversation she looked over at me. She really looked at me. She didn't speak or break eye contact for minutes. Finally she spoke for the first time without a direct question. "What's your name?"

"Mick St John," I answered.

We spoke for a few minutes. I tried to get her to open up a bit. Maybe admit she was a little scared; but she remained quiet. Finally I stood and went to the door. I opened it and a different woman entered the room. Lynn made eye contact with me and her vacant expression became hard.

"I'm not hungry," she said quickly. She sounded almost angry like she was accusing me of a great crime.

"It's been two days, you need to feed again."

She stared at me with a hard expression. "I won't."

"Lynn if you don't feed…"

She cut me off, "if I don't feed what?! I'll die?" she asked. Her expression was indescribable. She looked at me with those green eyes and a face of hard resolution. "Great, play 'Ding Dong the Witch is Dead' at my funeral."

"Lynn," I said cautiously. I approached her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I won't do it!" she yelled jerking away, pulling her knees to her face. I sighed. I really didn't want to do this. I excused myself and the woman was content to wait in the doorway while I grabbed a sedative. I came back with a syringe filled with a mild sedative. Lynn looked up as I approached her.

"I really don't want to do this; but you need to feed. You can do it of your own free will or I _will_ force you to." She glared at me.

"I won't do it at all!" she yelled.

I approached her, she tried to stop me; but she was weak and tired. I grabbed her wrists and held them in a single hand. She started to cry while trying to twist free; but I held her firm and stuck her with the hypodermic. She stopped struggling; and I ordered the woman over.

I had to prick the woman with the needle; but when Lynn smelled her blood she started to feed, still crying. It would be so much easier just to have her drink from a glass or give her an IV but new vampires had to learn control by feeding on humans and stopping.

The tears ran dry much more quickly this time. Not that it lessened my guilt the smallest degree. I stayed with her every time she fed. It took weeks before she could do it without crying or without the hypodermic. And every morning after a feed, without fail, she would run to the bathroom and try to throw up.

I sat there with her a lot. For a long time she just stared into space sitting on her bed, not speaking. Josef and I were the only ones she ever spoke to at all. As she started to open up a bit more as the weeks passed Josef took a real liking to her. She was a sweet girl with a playful sense of humor. I think that kind of innocence was rather refreshing to him.

I went in to visit her everyday. Eventually she admitted to me she liked books. I inquired further and found out she liked the classics. The next day I brought her an armful of books from my extensive library. For the first time, she looked up when I entered the room.

She looked at me; and stood. She walked over and took some of the books I was trying to balance. She carried them over to the bed and set them down, I followed suit. When I set them down she turned around instantly and threw her arms around me. She wasn't seeking comfort, this time it was purely thanks. For once I didn't feel guilt threaten to swallow me whole. I held her back, running my fingers through her hair. Finally I whispered to her, "now you've got to do something for me."

She looked up at me blankly. "Get your coat on," I said managing a smile. That day we went for the first of what would be many walks. I drove her away from the city to a park I knew. The day was cloudy, and it was autumn. We stayed on secluded trails. I had to put her back into contact with humans slowly so she could learn to control her urges. When humans would come jogging past us I'd put my arm around her shoulders and hold her firmly. Once I didn't do it and she took my arm and did it for me.

On those walks she told me about her life before. I even revealed some of mine. Once we talked about literature. I asked her about her favorite book. She told me that it was Tuck Everlasting.

"The book of immortals, figures," I said shaking my head, smiling.

She hit me gently, "that's not why I like it. For your information I've always liked it. Now I've learned to appreciate it even more."

I took the role of Tuck, "Life is like a wheel with life right there next to death."

She smiled. "What Tuck says there is really powerful. I never realized I could agree with him so strongly."

"You agree that people need to die?"

"I believe," she emphasized the switched word, "that you can't appreciate and fully have good things without the bad things. It's a wheel you can't take some parts of the road and bypass others."

"Look at us," I said. The philosophical conversation wasn't a new thing for us. I appreciated Lynn's view on the world.

"Yes, look at us. We don't change or die, just like the Tucks really…except for the bloodsucking thing. We're like rocks," she said with a smile.

"But can't we feel life the same way?"

She looked over at me, "do you really believe that?"

I gave a small 'hm'. "What about true love?" I asked.

"What?" she asked me with a confused smile.

"I'm curious. As long as we're going to be philosophical I want to know: god, purpose of life, karma; but more intriguingly do you believe in true love? The whole can't live without each other thing."

She looked up at me and said thoughtfully. "I don't think that's how it works." "If you couldn't live without that person than love means nothing because it's not a conscious decision. It's a certainty which means that there's nothing to be afraid of, nothing to fear for. The fact that it is filled with uncertainty is what makes life and love mean something."


	3. Over You

(Mick POV present tense)

I saw her on the monitor, and my heart skipped a beat. She was right there through that door. She knocked again. When I opened the door she took one look at me sighed, and turned murderous. She turned on her heel and started down the hall shouting, "I'm going to kill Beth!"

I think I summed up the situation at record timing. "Lynn," I called down the hallway.

She stopped and cast a glance over her shoulder. "You want to come in?" I asked.

Her eyes were alight with mischief, "why?"

"We can talk," I suggested.

She rolled her eyes, "Mick we so have nothing to talk about."

I shrugged my shoulders and went inside; but I left the door open. I stood there back to the wall next to the door; my eyes closed, silently pleading to someone. As I just about gave up I heard her start back down the hall. When she entered the apartment I took her jacket, careful not to touch her skin and hung it on the rack.

"Thirsty?" I asked.

"Sure," she answered casting an appraising eye over my apartment.

"A neg or O pos?"

"O positive," she answered.

I poured her a glass and handed it to her, she inclined her head gracefully. She took a sip and looked over at me. "Mmm, excellent year," she said with a smile.

I smiled back. When she smiled at me it was like it put everything in perspective for me. "Alright Mick, you managed to get me in here what do you want to talk about?" I considered just telling her; but I didn't need her to slap me and leave. She'd done it before and I wouldn't put it past her to do it again.

"Nothing particular, just talk," I shrugged.

"Oh no you're trying to engage me in a 'how's the weather' conversation aren't you?" she asked with mock irritation.

"Yes," I smiled.

"Scandalous," she smiled back. There was an uneasy quiet for a moment.

"We used to manage talking just fine," I muttered. She looked down for half a moment, instantly sober.

"I guess we did," she said blankly. The conversation officially hit awkward. We used to do a bit more than talk.

"So thirty years, what have you been doing? Besides learning French?" asked.

"Nothing worth mentioning really," she shrugged. "But you look like you're doing alright for yourself." She brandished an arm around my apartment.

"I like to think so."

"So PI?" she asked.

I nodded, "it pays the bills and it's remarkably less work for the superhuman."

"Where do I sign up?" she asked.

"I thought you always wanted to go into photography," I said curiously.

"Photography doesn't pay the bills. Besides if I made it big, people would be watching me. It makes our double life a little bit harder to live."

"You should go for it," I urged. "If it makes you happy then do it. You can always fake your own death later if need be." We laughed uneasily.

"So does this private investigator thing make you happy?" she asked. I nodded.

"It really does," I admitted. "What about you? Philanthropist, not quite the girl I used to know."

She smiled condescendingly, "don't flatter yourself. I can have secrets too."

"Nah, you'll always be my open book." She raised her eyebrows at me. I knew it was a challenge for her. "Well at any rate there was one thing I was able to keep from you, oh master detective, no matter for however brief a time." She seemed to regret the words as soon as she spoke them. She sighed. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I always have to trudge up history."

I tried not to smile. "What?" she asked snappishly.

I started smiling, "I'll always know you best. I know if it were up to you we never would have spoken about anything. You'd much rather ignore things and see how they play out. We can talk about what happened you know."

She raised her eyebrows again, this was tender ground. "Well mother," she said sharply, "I have no problem talking about what happened. I'm just not a lets-all-share-our-feelings-and-cry sort of person. You should know that."

I tried to reason with her, "we don't have to pretend this didn't happen. Things won't go back to the way they were. It's okay to admit that what happened did."

"Mick I don't want to talk about this," she set down her glass.

"Exactly my point," I set mine down. "Look there was a time I was in love with you and you were in love with me. Now it's over," my heart clenched. "Can't we just move on?"

She looked up sharply her eyes flashing the way they did when she was done trying to avoid a subject. Her eyes were accusing, "oh you did a bit more than move on Mick!"

I was stunned by her blow for a second. She drained her glass and set it back on the counter. "I'm going to go," she announced. I followed her across the room.

"Lynn, Lynn!" I called. When I caught up I grabbed her arm and held it as gently but firmly as I could. She tried unsuccessfully to tear away.

"Mick what do you want from me?!"

"I want to talk," I answered back as calmly as I could.

"Well I'm sorry Mick I'm not going to open up and admit," she feigned a falsetto voice, "how rejected and hurt I felt." There was a cold condescending look on her beautiful face. "I'm not a hopeless teenage romantic," I knew she had bit her tongue to avoid saying 'like you'. "I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to beg you to take me back. What happened happened, and now it's over. I'm not in love with you anymore. So you need to let me go."

I held her arm. "Why can't we be in the same room anymore Lynn? Why can't we sit and laugh and talk like we used to?"

"Because we can't!" she snapped tearing her arm from my grasp, she turned to face me. "Mick it broke my heart when you left. You were the only thing I ever wanted, and the one thing I ever dreamed I could have. I offered you eternity, and you left! I have learned to live without you Mick, I don't need you!" She paused, her breath slowing.

I looked down a moment and suddenly I realized something. "Lynn I want things to be the way they were before."

She rolled her eyes, "Mick that's not going to happen. We both know how that story ends."

"Lynn things have changed since then! We're both older wiser maybe now…" she cut me off with a sarcastic laugh.

"Oh Mick you have finally said something true! Things have most definitely changed since then! I don't need you anymore Mick."

I took a few measured breaths. "Lynn I learned to live without you too. But I realize now I don't want to. We had a good thing going before, why can't things be like that anymore?"

"Because Mick! Namely, things will go exactly the same way they did then! Eventually you'll realize you don't want me like that. What's more I don't want things to back to the way they were. I'm over you now!" She breathed heavily and locked my gaze in hers.

"Lynn, I might not love you in that way; but I still love you. I don't want you to be hurt over what happened."

"Mick I'm done crying. See this," she extended her arms, "this is me, totally over what happened. I'm not in love with you anymore Mick." I watched her face, waiting for her to blink, or look away; but she held her gaze firm.

Every part of me screamed against what I said; but I said it, "I'm not in love with you either." She inclined her head as if to call me a liar.

She stepped closer until her body was pushing against mine. Her expression remained the same. She brushed her soft lips gently along the skin of my face, gently stopping at my lips. The way she smelled pushed against me. The heat of her body was warm and inviting and made me feel even colder than usual. She snaked a hand around my neck smoothly. Her voice echoed in my mind and I felt my head start to spin. I could hardly breathe now, she was perfectly intoxicating.

I remembered everything. I remembered the night I turned her, the nights I didn't say no, and finally the night I did. I remembered how she and I were made for each other. Her lips danced across my skin. It was like the years just melted away; suddenly it was just her and I again.

As she moved to kiss me and I was about to move back she stopped and pulled back. I followed her until she stepped away when I pulled myself back as well.

"I hope so Mick. Because things can't be the way I offered them to you, too much has changed. I loved you. I would have followed you until, quite literally, the end of the earth, and past that if I could have; but not anymore. Now I am in town for three more days and I need as little interaction as possible. After that I will leave and if it is the last thing I do, I will make sure we never see each other again. That's a promise."

She turned and walked out the door grabbing her jacket smoothly along the way. When she was out of the room I put a hand on the couch and steadied myself until my heart returned to a reasonable pace. Dammit she was good.

(Mick POV past tense)

She had been muttering his name in her sleep again. I had been watching over her again as well. "Tom?" she'd mutter as though she were searching for something. She rolled over uneasily so she was facing me. "Tommy?" She gave a sharp intake of breath and awoke with a jerk. "Tom?" she questioned groggily as she saw me.

I really wanted to disappear at that moment. I considered getting up and leaving; but her eyes cleared before I could move fast enough. From the fierce redness in her cheeks my embarrassment was pathetic compared to hers.

"Sorry, I heard you groaning," I lied stupidly. I turned around and went for the door.

"Wait Mick," she called out. I turned around. "Don't go," she said. I walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. The awkwardness was almost tangible. We both looked anywhere; but at each other. Finally she broke the silence.

"Tom was my boyfriend," she said quickly. I nodded. I knew that. I'd been watching the news reports surrounding her disappearance. Tom was tan with gold blonde hair; he looked like he worked out a lot. I knew I could take him, even as a human. He'd almost cried once, begging the one who had taken her just to send her home. Lynn didn't know; but one day I saw some pictures she was drawing. Several of them were half finished and were obviously him.

"Things weren't really serious; but he was a sweet guy you know," she said offhandedly. I nodded, still refusing to respond. She sighed fiercely, "please say something Mick."

I looked at her and shrugged, "what would you have me say?"

She sighed again, "that you understand," she almost begged. "I know he can't be a part of my life anymore; but…" she trailed off as though the words were refusing to come. "Mick more and more everyday, him and everyone else that I used to love are drifting away. I can't remember what my brother wore the last time I saw him, the shade of my sister's hair, my mother's perfume. It's just little things; but they're all slipping," she pulled her legs to her chest, setting her chin on her knees.

In that moment I knew I had to make a choice. I was either going to try and comfort her and go a little deeper; beyond the line of what I was obligated to do and what I wanted to do. No part of a sire's duty involved emotional counseling; but I couldn't make myself not care. I wanted her to be okay with what I had done to her; and not just to alleviate my own guilt.

"It's okay," I said putting a hand on hers. "It doesn't matter," she looked at me as though I was gravely misunderstanding. "Whatever you do, short of obsessing, trust me not healthy, those memories are going to fade." She looked as though I had slapped her. "Lynn, it's what happens. When you don't see people for a long time you forget them, that's life. But, it doesn't matter what they looked like. All you have to remember is how they made you feel; and whatever insignificant details you forget, feelings don't fade if they have the will to stay alive."

She looked at me contemplatively, as though seeing something she hadn't before. "Thank you Mick," she said simply, almost as though surprised. As she sobered up the situation became awkward again. She laughed uneasily, "thanks," she said again. "I won't make you stay up any later," she apologized.


	4. First Kiss

Make sure you read the last little excerpt I put in the last chapter. This is a good one.

(Lynn POV, past tense)

My hands were shaking. I was in a dress attending a small art gallery with Mick and Josef. I hardly noticed my heels (a strange side effect of becoming a vampire that I was taking full advantage of) which was a blessing since I knew they were the last things I needed to be worrying about. I was so thirsty. I hadn't drunk recently; but I didn't understand how I was suddenly so thirsty.

The whole party had been a long blur: denying the stupid waiters with their stupid party snacks, smiling politely trying to ignore the pounds of the heartbeats in the room. Finally I had excused myself. I stepped outside into a side alley for a quick breath of air. Once the cool air swept over my skin I realized just how badly my neck was burning.

My shaking hand went up to my neck which I withdrew quickly when it touched my necklace. The clasp felt miniature under my grip as I tried to undo it. The tips of my fingers were red and I could feel the blood pumping through them. One of Josef's people had picked up the dress and the jewelry for me. I had just made up my mind to break the little sucker when I jumped as a cool hand was placed on my shoulder from behind. I jerked away and turned around. It was Mick.

"Are you alright?" he asked alarmed. I shook my head.

"Can you take off my necklace?" I asked breathlessly. I turned around and pulled my hair out of the way. His cool hands undid the small clasp with a single try. It slid from my neck and Mick held it hesitantly between his fingers.

"Is that silver?" he asked examining it.

"I think so," I breathed. As my head cleared I felt a strong urge for blood. I was ravenous. I stumbled as my head swam with the sudden urge.

"Whoa," Mick said sliding the necklace into his pocket and pulling my waist against him to keep me from falling. Some part of me registered how scandalous this was; but I was operating on primal instinct at the moment. "If you've been wearing that all night you'll need a drink." I could barely nod. "Wait here for just a minute. I'll tell Josef we're leaving and we'll go back to the house." I nodded. Somehow my head was both fuzzy and clear. I could hear the individual pound of every heart on the block. Mick set me against a wall and went quickly inside. I put my arm against the wall and leaned my head against it. I was so thirsty.

Maybe it was my heavy breaths, maybe it was how helpless I seemed, perhaps it was just the fact I was there alone in a dark alley. But I don't think it really matters, not for me anyway. I heard his rushed heartbeat as he came down the alley. His every footfall sounding like a slammed door to my ears; but I realized he was trying to sneak past me. I pushed past my primal instincts willing him to go away before I hurt him. I wished with all my heart Mick was there, a gentle arm around my shoulders, acting as a physical barrier between me and the urges I had yet to fully conquer. However now I was alone.

The man's footfalls were louder and louder though to him he probably sounded silent. Over the last few months I had been living by a whole new set of rules. My concerns were a far cry from what they had been and my desires were in an entirely different league. So when the man pulled out a knife and pushed it against my exposed neck it was a shock. My physical wellbeing was not something I had been forced to worry about recently.

Quite frankly the only defense I can give for my next actions was I was hungry, literally starving. My anger flared at this weak street urchin who thought he was going to steal my wallet or more likely something far worse. Beyond all the anger however was a silent pleasure. There is some simple joy that comes from being able to hurt those who would hurt you.

My movements must have seemed to last about a single beat of his heart, if he blinked he might have missed it. I threw back my elbow into his stomach, used my wrist as a guard against his knife wielding arm. My wrist slid down his arm forcing the knife arm away from me until I grabbed it from his loosened grip and slashed him on the leg in a single swift movement.

The man crumbled as I turned to face him. He looked just as I imagined he would: ratty old jacket, stained Levis, unshaven for at least four days, and perfectly fearful. I took pleasure in his pain. He was powerless now, I was the ultimate enemy and he had no idea how lucky he would be if I just stabbed him with his own knife. I can remember perfectly the cold smile on my lips. I breathed out a cruel laugh; but then I caught the smell, the sickly sweet smell of blood. My heart which had been totally relaxed as I'd defended myself raced like a car on nitro. I dropped the knife and turned away, leaning against the wall again trying to overcome my urge.

I turned to an entirely alternate world. I could smell the intricate details in his blood. My skills were still rudimentary compared to the likes of Mick and Josef; but they still far surpassed any human. My muscles were flooded with adrenaline and I felt powerful and unstoppable. I pushed so hard to try and regain myself; but the smell of his blood was pressing down on me, intoxicating me. I could hear the blood coming from his wound, pooling on the ground. I can't say whether or not I would have won that fight against myself if we had both just sat there; but he got up frantically and made a run for it. I felt my eyes glaze over white and my fangs push out. As I turned slowly, he ran with all his might; but a wounded gazelle trying to outdistance a cheetah on the Serengeti had a much better chance for survival. Instinct overwhelmed my human conscience.

I gave the bum a head start. He didn't even make it to the end of the alley when I struck. I buried my fangs into the skin on his neck; and as the blood burst into life on my tongue my whole body relaxed with a shudder. He would have sunk to the ground if I hadn't held him up. He slumped over; but I held him straight enough to get my fill. This urchin was a far cry from the blood I was used to. Imagine if you will an alcoholic used to the finest French wine who was now downing perhaps a whiskey or tequila. I had never realized how blue the blood Josef kept available was until now. I could taste the faint hint of drugs in his blood, he wasn't high right now; but he was a regular user. However the alcohol was quite fresh, it was a wonder he had even been able to stand. The blood simply tasted dirty, I wished for one of the delicious vessels we kept handy; but at the moment it was this or starvation.

I was faintly aware of Mick as he came through the door. He spotted me and my meal and hurried down to my side. In Mick's presence I was instantly ashamed, what had felt like survival now felt like a lazy self indulgence. My fangs retracted and I could feel a veil lift from my eyes. I jerked away from what I had done. Bent over his dead body I felt like a monster, worse than the trash I had assumed him to be.

I tried to get up and run; but Mick grabbed my arm. I struggled to pull away, I was horrified. I'd killed someone. The heartbeat I wished desperately to hear had been silenced forever. My disgust with myself threatened to envelop me. I think for a moment I lost my sanity. As I hadn't in months I tried to bring up the contents of my stomach; but as usual that was impossible. The tears I pushed away violently, trying not to become a crybaby as well as a monster, came anyway. I tried to fortify myself with indifference; but my disgust peeled away at my soul, if I still had one.

I tried to jerk my arm back so I could just run, run away until the pain blocked out the terror; but Mick's grip on my arm was strong and unyielding. He pulled me towards him and his other arm came around my back to hold me there. One arm held me so I couldn't run; the other was on the back of my head. I felt like a child, weak and stupid; but my crime was far beyond any child's. I didn't deserve to be associated with that kind of innocence. Mick's indulgence made me feel even worse. He held me tightly, never uttering a word. He seemed to know the pain I felt, though I couldn't imagine how.

He simply held me until there was the sound of other people, still quite far; but approaching sounded through both our ears. He put his hand on my cheek and looked me in the eyes. His look was intense, hurried as though we didn't have much time; but insistent.

"I want you to go back to the house," he ordered. "I'll take care of this, just go back to the house and wait for me." I nodded brokenly. "Lynn this wasn't your fault," he said quickly. The person was getting closer. He looked up and then stared at me with those deep penetrating eyes. "Go to the house; don't do anything until I come find you alright?" I nodded again. Mick was my rock. When terror enveloped me and left me lost and wandering in the dark, Mick was a light that could shine through the darkness and find me. "Go," he urged, not letting me go. "Go!" he said again. I broke away and without turning back, ran to the end of the street and around the corner.

When I got back to the house I wished I was human so that the intense sprint I had maintained would have made me pass out. However I realized the situation was oxymoronic. Humans weren't monsters they didn't need to pass out because they didn't kill people like livestock at the slaughter.

I felt cold. Not a refreshing coolness like an autumn breeze like what I had felt since being turned. It was more like a piece of ice lodged in my heart. My stomach was clenching and churning. I was a murderer. I had never taken a life before and the disgust I felt within myself was tearing me apart. I never realized how overplayed murder was. Killing was worse than dying. The guilt echoed out from the core of your being and destroyed any innocence that had the audacity to remain. I paced back and forth for a while.

Finally with a resolution I jerked open my desk drawer and yanked out a small vial from the back.

My hand was shaking as I looked at the small vial. The gray powder sifted innocently in the bottle. Silver was used by photographers in small doses. It hadn't been hard to get a hold of. I bought it shortly after learning that silver could kill vampires. Back then I had lost the will to live; but I hadn't the will to bring about my own end. However there was an exception to that rule, if I became a danger to others I was obligated to end the threat.

The time had come. I'd tried to be harmless; but I'd ended a life. Now my time to die was at hand. I wondered vaguely if what I was doing was noble, I decided there was no honor as a monster. I couldn't say how long I sat there staring at that quaint little vial. I was faster, stronger, and immortal to any opponent who dared oppose me; but this little bottle held the key to my destruction.

I was irritatingly calm as I examined the bottle and slowly twisted off the lid. I wondered how much was enough. Deciding I wasn't going to need the excess I determined to down the whole bottle. My hands got sweaty as I toasted an invisible being. "To…" I wondered what my last words would be. "To those who are not yet where I am, may they never be."

Fate was cruel in that moment. As I hesitated, shaking like a leaf in the wind Mick opened the door. My mouth was dry as I opened my lips to try and tell him a lie. However he summed up the situation quickly. He looked terrified and the blood drained from his face.

As I registered his movement I moved the vial violently towards my lips. He was faster. With a thud he pushed me straight from my seat and pinned me against the wall. The vial slipped in my sweaty hands as my hand hit the wall. I clutched frantically at my last chance for death. Both hands on my wrists, he was much stronger than I. His iron grip was inescapable. I still pushed the vial towards my lips with all my strength. As I did Mick slammed my hand against the wall. My priorities shifted to keeping the bottle in my grip, I gripped it as hard as I could, as he slammed my hand against the wall again.

I squeezed too hard; the bottle broke in my grasp. I felt the glass cut my hand and powder burst from the little bottle. Blood seeped through my closed fist and as Mick put more pressure on my wrist I dropped the broken pieces. The powder slipped from my hand like sand.

For a moment I felt all hope drain from me and I slumped to the ground as Mick's grasp loosened. As I hit the ground I felt dizzy. My hands were shaking again and I wouldn't think quite straight. I looked at my hand with confusion; the silver powder was coupled around and on top of my cuts. I realized with intense relief akin to joy that some of the silver had made it into my blood stream. My happiness washed away as another wave of helplessness spread over me. My body grew limp and I could hear the blood going through my veins.

Mick was drumming my face with his hand. His words were distant though his obvious fear and concern comforted me, he cared. I wanted to tell him things would be okay. I didn't want him to be upset after I was gone. My life had been my own to take; but I wanted him to be happy.

"Lynn," he panted. His voice was soft and fading in my ears; but I loved the way my name sounded when he said it. He put his face next to mine; and his skin felt deliciously cool next to my skin. Consciousness slipped away from me and the colors faded to black. It reminded me of when Mick had given me a sedative. Things slipped from my grasp of comprehension; but there was no fear. The sounds of my slowing heartbeat faded as the beats got further and further apart. My control over my body slipped away, everything numbing. I tried to move my lips, just to tell Mick one last thing; but darkness overtook my sight.

When next I felt it was in my wrist. At first it sort of tingled; but it grew to pain. I groaned and I became aware of the rest of my body. Slowly my eyes opened. At first there was an angel. He lowered his face to my wrist quickly; and I was sure he was taking away the pain. My skin would prickle uncomfortably; but then the pain dulled and my hand became numb.

As my awareness grew I realized this was no heaven. I was in my room again, Mick leaning down to my wrist. The pain flared again and I took in he was sinking his fangs into my wrist. I cringed this time and tried to pull away; but Mick's grip was strong and I was weak. He raised his head and spat out my blood, then lowered his head again for another sip. With each sip I became more and more coherent. Finally I realized Mick was sucking the silver from my bloodstream, like poison from a snake bite. That was when I started resisting. Didn't he understand? I was a murderer, I had to die. Mick seemed impervious to my struggling. He kept dipping his head to my wrist, occasionally having to bite again to open a new wound as the old bites would heal over.

His lips were cold, his fangs merciless. He sucked at my wrist fervidly. When he would draw up his head to spit out my poisoned blood, the pain in my hand would dull momentarily until he ducked back down to bite at my soft skin. He sucked up all my blood mechanically, never pausing in his routine no matter how I struggled.

After perhaps a half an hour he finally looked at me. I was completely coherent now, fighting with all my strength to stop him, not that it was any use. When he looked at me I stopped struggling, I had never seen Mick look so angry, at anyone, ever. His face was hard, his lips a straight line. If looks could kill Mick put all other looks to shame. His gaze was furious, refusing to even acknowledge me in any way. Cruelly he stopped looking at me and turned to my hand. He used his sleeve to brush the silver dust from my hand as though he didn't trust me to leave any trace.

I tried to pretend his anger didn't bother me. "Mick why didn't you just let me go?" I asked lamely. Although his face didn't change I swear he looked even more enraged as he ignored me. He stood and his coat swept past me as he I heard him pick up a towel and wet it under the faucet in the bathroom. I used the wall to help me stand, my head spinning slightly. Mick entered the room quickly, clearly my trust with him had disintegrated. I couldn't look him in the eyes. Without looking at me he walked over and put out his hand, indicating for me to give him my wrist.

I hesitated, for not even a second. My reaction timing was reasonably slower than usual. He reached out with a lightening like movement and snatched my hand into his cold grip as though he could sense my nonexistent reluctance. His hand on my wrist was as tight as when he'd been restraining me, not that I resisted now. He used the towel to clean the silver from my hand. I felt my head clear slightly as it left my skin.

Before he let go of my hand a wave of anger at my foiled attempt raged over me. I gathered any dignity I had left, all the anger I possessed, and any determination I had ever felt to mutter, "don't turn your back on me, because I will just do it again."

As I registered his movement, he shoved me against the wall again. His hands pinned both my wrists next to my shoulders, his furious glare pinned me in an almost physical way. He was looking me in the eyes, looking beyond livid. There was a fury in his eyes as he held me mercilessly. I won't deny it, I was afraid. I was afraid for my physical wellbeing as he looked at me that way. My mouth was open, my breathing quickened and shallow. I was made increasingly aware that he was much stronger than I was as he looked down at me; and that there was more than a reason to fear the man I had come to trust so deeply.

"Don't you dare say that," he ordered his breathing fierce. "I swear if I ever find you doing anything like this again I will make you regret that you didn't run from me the days you had a chance." I didn't doubt his promise from his piercing stare. Those beautiful eyes were positively terrifying.

I wasn't afraid of thugs. The people who prey on the fearful don't scare me. I don't care how strong they are, because I have taught myself that those are the people I have the right to beat. Murderers, rapists, and homicidal maniacs they just don't scare me. However as Mick stared down at me I realized his wrath was the anger I was the most afraid of. There is something about seeing anger on the face of the people we love, who we know would never hurt us. Somehow that is the most terrifying thing a person can know. Hate where we are used to seeing love.

I broke his gaze, looking away trying to catch my breath. My response sounded much calmer then I thought I could have sounded at that moment. My voice was pure and though the words were well used they seemed to sound differently in the ears as they left my lips, "why do you care Mick?"

Why should he care? Did he feel so guilty about turning me that my death was something he was never going to permit? It was cruel. I had come to love Mick and I was through denying that to myself. It was cruel that my life should only mean something to him because he was now responsible for it. But he didn't understand. I was a murderer. Sure this time it was only a street urchin; but it wouldn't have mattered to me if it had been a child. I had fought against that urge with everything I possessed and it hadn't been enough.

"Why do you care?" I pressed more insistently.

There was only a moment's hesitation on that beautiful face. So fleeting I can't be sure I didn't imagine it.

Before I knew what was happening his lips were against mine, pushing fiercely and relentlessly. His grip on my wrists was still strong. A heat replaced the coldness I had felt. His lips were unyielding, pushing without hesitation. His head curled around mine as he pushed against me. I was powerless to move, not that I wanted to. Mick's body leaned against me, putting a crushing pressure against me as he let go of my wrists smoothly, gently. A single hand crept up to my neck, brushing against every inch of skin along the way, as he pulled my head closer to his. His other hand slid from my shoulder down the back of my arm transferring to my back, taking with it a wave of heat. Finally it rested at the small of my back. He pulled my body against his, impervious to any objections I might have had.

My body reacted without any indication to my mind which seemed to have closed up shop, except for the pleasure center of my brain which was currently on overload. All I could feel was a searing heat where we met: the entire fronts of our bodies, his hand on my back. Something with ten times the potency flared where his skin touched mine: our lips, his hand on my neck, his cheek against mine. The pressure of his body against mine was comforting, like a blanket's weight. To me he couldn't have held me close enough. My back against the wall, he pulled me up to better reach him as he leaned down over me.

My hand snaked up his cheek and my fingers wound themselves in his hair. While my other freed hand rested on his strong arm. I felt insubstantial, almost weak next to his strength. I could feel the muscles in his arm flexing to draw me in closer. I hesitantly tried to pull my face away, aware of how much my lungs burned for air. His lips followed mine as though reluctant to let them slip away. For a moment a primal instinct made me fear I would die for lack of air. However he finally pulled his lips away forcefully as he waited impatiently for me to suck in a breath of air. After a single breath he seemed to decide that was quite enough as he almost jerked his lips back over mine again.

Heat that I hadn't felt since I was human surged through me and left me with only one desire: to feel it again. Mick would draw away for a moment, return for another slow kiss, then draw away again until finally his forehead rested against mine as we both struggled to pull enough air through our lips. His hand was the only spot of cool on the back of my neck as a heat raged wherever he touched me.

His sweet smell hit me as I caught the intricate details of what I had never been close enough to examine before. No artificial colognes could capture the essence of his perfect sweet scent as it registered to my mind. The feel of his rough skin against my smooth, the flex of his muscles under my grip, the strength he emanated to me. Even the soft sound of his labored breathing in my ears. His every feature was flawless on his faultless face, those beautiful eyes, those perfect lips.

He pushed his face into my hair gently and whispered into my ears. "Don't you ever scare me like that again." I was breathless to respond; but powerless to deny him so I nodded slowly, working it in with an exhale. He smiled ever so faintly and pulled me against him. I rested my head on his shoulder, amazed at how perfectly we fitted together, life two halves of a whole. I pushed my face into his jacket and absorbed that perfect scent as though I might wake up at any moment. He moved impatiently to kiss me again; but now that mischievous smile had returned. That perfect smile, it made me powerless. Mick was worse than a sedative; he shut down my resistance and my logic to the point where he overloaded my senses and left me struggling for breath. At those moments he held my life in his hands, I was powerless.


	5. Drabbles at Midnight

Sorry these are just kind of story drabbles, the action continues next chapter I promise. Remember Reviews Happy writer. Happy writer more chapters. Readers+ More Chapters HAPPY! Wow…no wonder I suck at algebra.

(Mick POV past tense)

The first time I kissed Lynn, I learned what passion was. I knew a sweet kind of love; I had been in unserious relationships before. I knew a fevered kind of love, like the destructive relationship I had had with Coralline. However passion was something entirely new to me. Passion came from one of two places, lust or love. I was used to lust, where it's like a drug is coursing through your veins. Love however, the terror I felt as I saw that bottle and smelled the metallic silver, that was going to take some getting used to.

This wasn't the mindless insanity I felt with Coralline, this time it was a deeper and more honest passion. How it made me feel at moments was much the same, maybe it was because we connected emotionally… honestly I don't know.

I'd learned to love her in a different way since turning her. For months after that only her life had helped me to limp on from what I never thought I could recover from. I considered suicide a lot at first; but whenever the guilt made me want to die I just found Lynn and talked to her until I felt better.

She was refreshing. You just didn't find a sweet female vampire, it just doesn't happen. Perhaps that was why I never pursued a relationship with a vampirette. Josef agreed with me about not finding a female vampire who wasn't a bitch; but that never stopped him. In the same way Lynn's sweet nature appealed to Josef it made me slowly fall in love with her. What she was just seemed to contrast so sharply who she was until those who met her were forced to challenge their preconceptions about what we are.

As time passed she started to come out of the shell she had built for herself. She loved to laugh, even if something wasn't all that funny if she thought it was hilarious you'd find out quickly. She joked around and was quite funny all on her own. She loved to learn things. She'd listen to anyone who wanted to tell a story. With all the vampires, who are essentially ageless beings with decades of knowledge and experience, she learned more by questioning the guests who came to Josef's house than any university student. She had quite an arsenal of knowledge and skill at the tips of her fingers already. Any vampire who looked at her saw a young girl fresh in an entirely new world. Any vampire who talked to her was forced to acknowledge her willingness to learn and her quick mind.

However beyond this part of herself I could see the hesitance and the wall she had to struggle against. She never talked about how she was feeling, and if I ever asked she reminded me of Josef. At one point she said, "if you're a jerk people come to expect that. Then you never let anyone down." Sometimes I could see her eyes light up as we talked about history or philosophy some days she was just downright indifferent to what I had to say. She protected herself with a shield of cold logic and I knew there was some deep wound inside her she was struggling to let heal.

Even so she learned more and more everyday in that house and already had an informed opinion on every interesting topic known to man…and vampire. I will never forget the day she started talking to Josef.

(Josef POV past tense)

"So what is it you actually do?" she asked me with a hint of confusion. She trailed her fingers along my desk, examining some old knickknacks I kept on the shelves.

"A little of this, a little of that; and I teach folk dancing on the weekends," I said hardly paying her any attention. I felt bad for the poor kid the first night Mick had dragged her in here looking like a rave victim, that didn't mean I was going to pretend I liked her.

"Such as?" she encouraged. "Napoleon right?" she asked pointing to a ceramic bust.

"Yes," I answered, still ignoring her pointedly. "Well what I do in the city district and what I do in the vampire community are two very different things. Trust me you don't ever want to get the two mixed up. If its assassinate the vampire lord next door and talk to corporate about community bonds it turns into assassinate corporate and talk to the vampire lord about…" I didn't even see the point in finishing that joke. "Well you get the idea."

She laughed openly. "So was Napoleon really assassinated by the French?" she asked. I couldn't help looking up from my papers.

"Now how on earth would I know that?" I asked.

"Well you were there weren't you?" she asked. "Besides in four hundred years I assume you've run into plenty of interesting characters. If Napoleon is the one you've decided to idolize," she extended her hand at the bust looking like a game show assistant. "Why shouldn't I assume its for a reason?"

I had to admit she had some interesting logic. I couldn't decide between responding 'it was a gift' and explaining. Somehow she won. "I never knew Napoleon; but

"I think by the time he'd been dethroned and exiled he probably started smoking some local plants which explains the arsenic."

"I thought drugs toxicity was only modern, amphetamines that sort of thing," she asked.

"No, they've been using rat poison for a little extra kick since long before you came around." She gave a small 'hm'.

"I should have known. Party at Elba I guess." I smiled.

"Besides whether or not you like his politics the man had some serious style," I said looking back down at my papers.

"Straight up," she agreed quickly. "It makes me so mad when I say Napoleon and everyone else says 'oh the short guy?' Waterloo, ruler of France, for however short a period and all they remember is the height thing."

I looked up from my papers again. If I had a journal I would have wondered f she had been sneaking peeks, because she knew my pain all too well. Actually if I kept a journal I probably would have beat myself up purely on principle.

"The greatest strategist the world has ever known, next to Sunt Zu and Miyamoto Musashi of course," she said offhandedly. She examined a weapon I'd grabbed on some travels I had hanging on the wall. Three strings tied in the middle with heavy rounded weights on the ends, probably belonged in a museum by now.

"What's this?" she questioned.

"South American bolas," I answered. This girl's curiosity was truly insatiable. "The natives used them. Usually broke necks before it strangled anything though."

"Gross," she said almost reverently, examining it closer. "So we were saying, what's your job in the vampire community?" she asked again.

"I'm a sanctioned elder of the area. For bloodsuckers you'd be surprised at all the red tape we have." I taught her more about history (or as I call it what the history morons screwed up) and the real vampire structure that exists and existed than most vampires will ever know. One time Mick asked me why I never taught him any of this. Simple answer, he never asked. Simpler answer (the one he got) I didn't think you could keep up.


End file.
